A Closer Look at the Book: Daddy Was A Carpenter

Sometime the middle of the night, at some point in the Spring of 1977, Mother woke us.

She was hurried.

She was serious.

Something was wrong.

I learned about loss that night. I would get to know the feelings of hardship. It would be the first time I had ever seen my daddy cry.

Prior to that night, our family had been enjoying a season of splendor. Days were filled with much laughter. Much joy. Even as a very young child I could see the value of hard work. I witnessed a community, working together, building the Wilsey Lumber Yard strong. It was a time of rejoicing. Of giving thanks.

And then suddenly, in the dark of night, began a season of sorrow. Daddy’s business became a smoldering heap of ash.

This new moment? Confusion. Disbelief. An abrupt introduction to mourning.

These are the devastations we could choose to stash away and forget.

Forget the tears.

Forget the loss.

Forget the ashes.

But what if we choose to remember? What if we choose to share the disappointments that make us cry? What if we choose to share those memories that we would rather forget?

That moment, the memory, becomes truly significant.

And we can be changed.

And those ashes? They can become a song of hope. Yes. In their own way, they can become beautiful.

If you would like to know more about this story visit http://www.shellysimoneaustories.com

I would love to hear from you. Until then…

Always Hope,

Shelly Simoneau

  

Advertisement

Heart of a Giver

I recently spent time witnessing the sincere generosity of giving hearts. It was an experience that filled my own heart with joy in this tender season of giving.

 It began with a young child. Someone’s vibrant friend. Someone’s smiling neighbor. Someone’s beautiful daughter. Berkeley’s diagnosis was Leukemia.

 Enter Adrienne, a talented hair stylist at Moxy Hair Studio. Adrienne shared a connection to this child in need and offered her gift of cutting hair to make a wig with the help of Locks of Love.

 And so a quest began. A simple search for givers.

 Word of mouth. Phone calls. Social media.

 Enter Trisha, a typical young college student living fifty-seven miles away with very long, healthy hair. She had been growing it for many years. A beautiful treasure. Trisha heard of the search and an appointment was made.

 Sounds like the end of the story, right? Actually this is where I enter in as a witness. I met Trisha at Moxy Hair Studio, where we met Adrienne, who gave 80 minutes of her own time and talents that day for free, to donate Trisha’s hair, along with the hair of other givers, for the precious child in need.

 What did I witness?  Joyful giving. Priceless and selfless. And so it continues.

 There was smiling, and laughter, and joyful conversation. You see the giving was so much more than the hair, so much more than time and talent and treasure, because the hearts of the givers were filled with the joy of the giving.

 Look closely in the mirror. Joy can be found anywhere.

When is the last time you shared in it?

Be joyful always. – 1 Thes. 5:16